


this is friendsgiving

by SalomeWeil



Series: holiday season [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Friendsgiving, Swearing, Thanksgiving, Whiskey & Scotch, raw poultry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12674919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalomeWeil/pseuds/SalomeWeil
Summary: Rey's & Kylo's tentative friendship has led to them sharing hosting duties for a Friendsgiving party, complete with turkey and mashed potatoes. When they need help cooking the bird, will they still be able to salvage the holiday get-together, or will it ground the tender, new relationship before it has a chance to take off? T for fluff, mature language, and drinking.





	this is friendsgiving

“I’m making sangria,” Finn told her, his voice crackling over the speakerphone.

 

Rey scrunched her nose and began basting the turkey. “Making? Christ, Finn. Doesn’t that stuff need to sit overnight at least?”

 

“It’s fine,” Finn said dismissively. “They’re strong holiday flavors. It’ll be good, you’ll see.”

 

“Holiday flavors? Whose holiday?”

 

“Don’t be a jerkface. Cranberry, cloves, orange. You’re gonna love it.”

 

Rey rolled her eyes and put her shoulders into rubbing the herbed butter all over the turkey.

 

“If you say so,” she replied. “As long as you bring the Brussels sprouts you signed up for. And Poe _is_ coming, right?”

 

“Of course. We’re driving separately though; he had to meet a client this morning.”

 

“What is Poe bringing, again?” Rey asked.

 

“His sweet potato pie. What else?”

 

Rey barely heard him, up to her elbows in stuffing the properly greased bird in front of her. “God, my mouth is watering just thinking about those Brussels sprouts.”

 

Finn laughed delightedly. “You know they’re so easy to make, right?”

 

“They taste better when you make them,” Rey insisted. “And anyway, if I made them on the regular they wouldn’t be as special. They’re a holiday food only,” she said firmly.  

 

“God bless our lady Ina Garten,” Finn intoned solemnly. “I can’t wait to meet your boyfriend, by the way.”

 

Rey blushed and was thankful Finn couldn’t see her. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

 

“Says you!” Finn was laughing again and Rey gave a disgruntled sigh.

 

“I’ve gotta get this bird in the oven. Call me when you’re headed over.”

 

“Sure thing, hot lips!”

 

“Ugh!” Rey attempted to end the call three times with her elbow, Finn’s laughter filtering out to her the entire time, until she finally leant forward and bopped her nose to the screen, successfully hanging up.

 

She still couldn’t believe she’d been enough of an idiot to spill the beans about her crush on 4B to her friends.

 

Not 4B, she told herself. _Kylo_. Although the last time she’d accidentally called him 4B to his face, he’d laughed and said it was cute, and had proceeded to call her 4D. Hux had mimed gagging, but Hux was a dick - an opinion Kylo seemed to share, much to Rey’s relief.

 

Of course, she’d found that out by accidentally calling Hux a dick in conversation one evening, so…

 

But Kylo said he found her honesty refreshing.

 

 _Ugh._ She was hopeless, and her friends knew it. Kylo probably knew it, too.

 

Rey turned to her sink and began scrubbing her hands and arms clean of herbed butter, stuffing bits, turkey slime, and bacteria. The water ran so hot it was nearly scalding, but as she really didn’t want food poisoning to ruin her friendsgiving, she figured she could stand scalding water for a few minutes.

 

 _Whatever_. This was her friendsgiving and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin it. It was her first Saturday off in forever; it was a beautiful, crisp, cloudy autumn day; and as she had to work on actual Thanksgiving, she intended to fully enjoy this for all she was worth. Holidays were usually such lonely times. Not depressing, necessarily, but not entirely fulfilling. So just knowing she was going to be sharing the spirit of the day, at least, with people she cared about made her giddy.

 

Giddy enough to offer to cook a turkey when Kylo insisted he would only host friendsgiving if someone else brought the bird.

 

Giddy enough to excitedly research all the best ways to cook said turkey, painstakingly poring over food blogs on her phone during her breaks at work.

 

Giddy enough to completely forget to make sure she could even fit said turkey in her pitiful apartment oven.

 

With dawning horror, Rey finally gave up trying to fit a perfectly thawed, prepped, and seasoned forty pound bird in a brand-new-bought-for-the-occasion roasting pan into the perfectly preheated, perfectly _too-fucking-small_ oven.

 

 _Oh, shit_.

 

Friendsgiving just got real.

 

_____________________________________

  


The look of pleasant surprise on Kylo’s face was enough to make Rey break down the minute he opened the door to her incessant, frantic knocking.

 

“Where’s the fire?” he joked before he noticed the big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

 

“I can’t cook the turkey,” she cried in between heaving sobs of fresh air and tears.

 

He looked puzzled for a moment, then irritated, then panicked.

 

“What do you mean? Please don’t tell me you don’t know how.”

 

“No, I mean, I literally can’t cook the fucking bird!” Now she was waving her arms and hands around like a crazy person. “My oven is too small! I wasn’t even thinking -”

 

“Ah. Uh, you’d better come in? Or no, I’d better come over,” he finished, making sure his door was unlocked, then stepping out and closing it behind him carefully, before gently taking her by the shoulders and turning her around to march them both back to her apartment.

 

Rey shut her mouth and tried to stop crying. She _hated_ feeling like a damsel in distress, yet here she was, running to her crush like some simpering _idiot_ -

 

“Show me,” he directed her, his voice quite calm now. Rey led him into the apartment  and waved a hand to her small kitchen - smaller than the one in 4B, that was for sure, but she had one of the three studios on their floor, while he had a two bedroom, of all things.

 

He didn’t seem to mind, though, and he certainly wasn’t looking around with any interest. Instead, his gaze was fixed entirely on the forty-pounder in its roasting pan, taking up her meagre counter space

 

It felt like five minutes before he spoke, although it was really only a few seconds. Rey wiped at her cheeks, finally controlling her tears as his lips parted.

 

“It looks great,” he said and his voice was almost tender. Rey hiccoughed and then shrugged as he grinned down at her.

 

“Thanks?” she replied timidly.

The thing was, although she knew he liked her, she wasn’t sure if he liked her just as much as she liked him, and to a loner such as herself, that was tantamount to despairing of the whole relationship that wasn’t even a relationship yet.

 

“Well, we’d better try my oven,” he said, and patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Don’t sweat it. We’ll get it cooked.”

 

Rey looked up at him incredulously and felt her cheeks warm with a blush as he accompanied his reassurance with a wink.

 

 _We’ll get it cooked_.

 

She wondered briefly if Kylo 4B knew just how much damage he was doing to her. Probably, considering he’d admitted to once being a douchebag on the level of Hux. The thought made her huff with laughter at herself. Then she hurried forward to help him shift the roasting pan off her counter and into his capable hands, and proceeded to open doors for him.

 

So what if one of those doors was the one to her heart.

 

__________________________________

 

 

When the turkey didn’t fit in his oven either, Kylo swore and glanced back over his shoulder at Rey, who had begun to tremble.

 

“I won’t cry again,” she assured him bravely, with a sad little laugh. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes soften at the corners when she said that? “It was just a long shift yesterday, and I was so excited about today, I…” She shrugged again. “I was an idiot.”

 

“You weren’t an idiot,” Kylo replied, voice somewhat muffled as he bent over his oven again, once more trying to rearrange the shelves to fit the accursed bird. “It’s cute.”

 

Rey felt a flutter low in her stomach and swallowed hard. “Cute?”

 

“You know you’re fucking adorable, 4D. Cut it out.”  Kylo glanced back at her again and if the expression on his face was irritation, the tone of his voice was not. Rey pursed her lips and directed her gaze to the backsplash of his kitchen.

 

“Whatever,” she muttered.

 

Kylo straightened up, took in her crossed arms and pouty lips, and heaved a sigh. “I’m not mad at you. I just hate cooking turkey. My dad used to make me go turkey hunting with him every November and I had to dress the damn things. Then we’d cook it together, except he was shit at cooking like he was at being a father and I swore I wouldn’t touch the fucking things once I was on my own.”

 

“Oh.” Rey felt both elation that he’d shared such an intimate story with her and frustration that he hadn’t just refused to have turkey at this party if he hated it so much. She cleared her throat. “What do you usually eat at Thanksgiving?”

 

“Sushi.”

 

He said this so dead-pan that Rey gave a bark of laughter.

 

“I’m not joking,” Kylo retorted. He glanced at a clock and rubbed a hand down his face. “Aw, shit. If we don’t get this thing in an oven soon it’s not going to be ready. Guess I have to call in reinforcements.”

 

“Do you think the complex -” Rey started to say, brainstorming, but Kylo waved a hand at her to be quiet as he held his phone up to his ear.

 

She could hear the ringing coming from the other line and then the indiscernible noise of someone speaking. A woman, maybe. Kylo opened his mouth to speak

 

“Hi. Yeah, it’s been a while. Sorry.”

 

The voice responded and Rey watched Kylo’s face carefully as emotions danced across it.

 

“I’ll remember that. Right now I have a favor to ask.”

 

There was more sound and Kylo looked at Rey and rolled his eyes. She smiled in what she hoped was an apologetic and encouraging manner. He winked again.

 

“You know you love coming to my rescue, Mom.”

 

Rey’s eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped. Rey knew he’d had a crap relationship with his parents and that his dad was gone now. But he’d never mentioned his mother in the few weeks they’d been getting to know one another, and he had no photos of a family anywhere in his apartment. So it was quite the revelation to her that he was calling the woman who’d birthed him in order to cook a turkey for a party said woman had not been invited to, all to fix her mistake.

 

Kylo watched the astonishment sweep her face and bit his lower lip in amusement, then walked over to her and gently put one finger under her chin to push her mouth closed again. Rey was certain her entire face turned beet red. Not taking his eyes from hers, Kylo licked his lips and then spoke into the phone again. Rey wondered if his heart was beating as fast as hers.

 

“Mom? Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker.”

 

______________________________

  


She was in his car and he was driving her to his mother’s, turkey safely strapped into the back seat, the fixings for homemade mashed potatoes in the trunk, alongside an open bottle of whisky.

 

“Not that my mother doesn’t keep whisky,” he’d told her, “but I don’t know what brand she’s on at the moment and we’re going to need better than swill if we want to survive this.”

 

“You make it sound like we’re going to war,” Rey had joked as Kylo bundled her into his vehicle and then strapped himself in.

 

“We are,” he’d said.

 

She didn’t think he was joking.

 

The sky remained overcast as they made the twenty-minute drive out of the city to his mother’s home. Rey tried to remember to breathe as the businesses and apartment buildings gave way to tree-lined avenues overlooked by grandiose, single-family homes. “She lives in a Historic District?” Rey practically breathed, watching as they passed the beautiful old houses.

 

Kylo glanced over at her briefly. “Yes.”

 

“So you...grew up here?”

 

Kylo gave a small shake of his head. “Hardly. Try a two bedroom walk-up in the city. It took my mom years to rebuild the family fortune and Dad didn’t help much. Luxury was definitely not part of my aesthetic.”

 

“You live in a two bedroom walk-up now.”

 

“I do.”

 

Rey narrowed her eyes. “Wait...wait. Is it -”

 

“No, it’s not the same apartment.” Kylo laughed a little as he turned the car down another street.

 

Rey flushed and turned her gaze back out the passenger window. Before she knew it, the car was turning into an even, lengthy driveway that was lined on one side by mature pine trees and on the other by a well manicured lawn that was dotted with maple, oak, and more pine trees. Patches of brightly colored leaves and pine needles littered the yard. Bemused by the picturesque quality of it all, she turned her gaze ahead to see a stately, cream colored home with white trim and charcoal-grey shutters. They drew nearer and nearer the old structure that had _clearly_ been lovingly refurbished and preserved, until he stopped the car just under the porte-cochère. She wondered if his mother even called it a porte-cochère, or if she lacked the pretension that sometimes seemed to ooze from Kylo when he didn’t realize she was watching him.

 

Rey couldn’t imagine working in a home like this, let alone living there. She let her astonishment that she was about to enter such a beautiful building and foreign way of life wash over her and stayed buckled in her seat for an extra moment. Kylo turned off the car, but Rey just stared ahead of herself and reminded herself to keep breathing.

 

Kylo turned to face her and he appeared to be as eager to go inside as she was. “Want some whisky now?” he asked and she felt her face relax into an answering grin.

 

“God, yes,” she said, laughing. Kylo laughed too and then reached across her to open his glove box.

 

“You put it in the trunk,” Rey reminded him, still laughing.

 

“Shit, you’re right,” he replied, but he didn’t pull back when he turned his head to look at her. Instead, he made it seem like it was the easiest thing in the world to close the distance between their lips.

 

Rey swallowed her soft cry of surprise as kissed her gently, chastely. _Be cool_ , she told herself desperately. Fighting her usual reaction to surprise kisses of immediately shoving the perpetrator away, she licked her lips when he drew back and hoped she looked adequately pleased.

 

He looked at her, eyes serious, but Rey returned his gaze measure for measure and his lips finally curved up in a small smile. Kylo lifted one hand and drew a finger down her left cheek and Rey returned his smile. _Be cool._

 

“Are you going to open my door?” she asked, not looking away.

 

His mouth relaxed into a full smile, mostly straight teeth showing brightly. “As you wish.”

 

Then he was out of the car and walking around to the passenger side. Rey took the three seconds he was out of view of her face to take one deep breath, quickly followed by another. He’d quoted the fucking _Princess Bride_ . The _douchebag_.

 

_________________________________

 

Leia was already in the kitchen when they entered, Rey having followed Kylo in the side door and through the mudroom, down a hall and through a den area to the kitchen. Kylo lifted the roasting pan plus turkey onto the available island and then helped Rey as she hoisted the bag of mashed potato ingredients up as well.

 

“I poured scotch,” Leia said. “Everyone drinks scotch, right?”

 

“Morning, Mom.” Rey watched with wide eyes as Kylo moved forward and leaned across the counter to kiss his mother’s cheek - his mother who was a former congresswoman - and swipe one of the glasses at the same time.

 

“Not swill,” he said in surprise after the first sip. He turned and handed Rey the other glass.

 

“Not swill. The last time you had a drink with me I was finishing off your father’s bottle.”

 

“Blame it on the person who can’t defend himself.”

 

“I blamed everything else on him,” Leia said, and seemed completely unperturbed by Kylo’s sass. Rey couldn’t decide if she wanted to hug the woman on the spot or run away, or possibly both.

 

As if she could hear Rey’s thoughts, the older woman turned to her. Before she could say anything, Rey’s nerves got the better of her.

 

“I didn’t vote for you,” she blurted out. She felt Kylo stiffen beside her, but Leia just smiled kindly, if a bit tiredly, and held out a hand.

 

“No offense taken. Hi. You must be Rey. I’m Ben’s mother, when he needs a favor.”

 

Rey couldn’t help a snort of laughter and Leia turned to Kylo, who’d made a noise of protest.

 

“Shut up. You call me to use my oven, I call you what I want to. It’s your name. Save the Perry Mason shit for your courtroom dramas.”

 

Before Rey could recover from the reveal of Kylo’s real name, or Kylo could get his mother to be quiet, Leia was onto the next subject.

 

“Look, I was thinking, you’re cooking the damn thing here - which, by the way, the oven is preheated, you should get it in now - why not just host here too?”

 

There was a crashing noise as Kylo nearly dropped the turkey at her suggestion and Rey practically flew across the kitchen to help him maneuver it back onto the roasting rack with no dressings lost. They tried to address Leia at the same time, distracted as they were.

 

“Oh, I don’t -”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

Leia looked from Kylo to Rey and back before deciding it didn’t matter who the weakest link was.

 

“That bird is going to take at least six hours and your get-together starts when? Two? Add in driving time, safely transporting a piping hot bird and a tub of mashed potatoes...you know getting out here is only going to add _maybe_ ten minutes to most of your guests’ commute.”

 

“And this is why she eventually went into politics,” Kylo said to Rey as he closed the oven. She set the timer and glanced at him, trying not to smile too much.

 

“And where you got your debate skills for law school?”

 

Leia laughed and finished her glass of scotch. “She’s got your number, doesn’t she? I like this one.”

 

Don’t respond, Kylo mouthed at Rey, who was looking back and forth between mother and son. Trying not to laugh seemed like too much effort, but she also didn’t want to offend Kylo if he really wasn’t on decent terms with his mother, so she desperately held it in.

 

When she didn’t get a response, Leia sighed heavily and pointed at the two of them.

 

“Fine. Make your potatoes and turkey. I’ll stay out of your way for now, but this isn’t over.”

 

Once she’d gone, Rey dared glance at Kylo, who was rubbing a hand over his face.

 

“We should’ve butchered the turkey and cooked it in pieces,” he muttered. Rey wondered if he was regretting kissing her, or if he’d still think it had been worth the hassle, once it was all said and done. She wondered if she regretted _him_ kissing _her_ , after the way he’d neglected to tell her how his somewhat estranged mother was a political superstar.

 

She turned away from him and started setting the potatoes on the counter.

 

“Come on. I’ll help you peel these.”

 

Kylo stepped up to the counter beside her and glanced at her pinched features.

 

“I should’ve warned you.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’m -”

 

“Don’t apologize. Just drink and peel,” she directed and surprisingly, Kylo did.

 

____________________________________________

  


Several drinks, basting breaks, and potato peelings later, Rey and Kylo were still in the kitchen, but much less steady on their feet and far more relaxed than they were when they’d arrived. The air of tension that had suffused Rey upon meeting Leia earlier was almost gone and she was feeling much better about the whole situation - unbelievably better.

 

“You’re never going to be able to drive home,” Rey teased, boldly running a finger along the shell of Kylo’s right ear when he protested. “Nuh-uh.”

 

“This was probably her plan all along,” Kylo admitted, dropping his head to his arms on the countertop. “Get us liquored up so we can’t drive.”

 

“But we can still cook!”

 

“Because a car and an oven are completely the same.”

 

Rey snickered and was about to respond when Leia came back in.

 

“How long do we still have? Three hours?”

 

Rey practically jumped to attention and away from Kylo, who looked up at his mother and then over at Rey, affronted.

 

“About that,” she replied cautiously.

 

Leia looked at them both thoughtfully. Rey fidgeted a little.

 

“What do you want?” Kylo asked.

 

“Oh, nothing. I’m just trying to figure out how you thought you’d get this bird cooked in time without a convection oven.”

 

“I’m sorry, a what?” Rey asked, looking from mother to son. Kylo’s eyes had gone wide.

 

Leia, however, had moved on. “I’m also trying to figure out why you’re with my son.”

 

“But we aren’t -”

 

“Oh? Oh.” Leia looked at Kylo, then at Rey, sternly. Her eyes took on a steely glint. “And why not? What’s wrong with him?”

 

Rey was gobsmacked. Whatever she’d been expecting, it had not been hostility.

 

“Nothing? Nothing is wrong with him! I just...I work in an E.R., and I don’t have a lot of free time, and we only just started hanging out some, like maybe twice a week, if we’re lucky...but I - no, there’s nothing wrong with him - there’s probably more wrong with me -”

 

Kylo found his voice and decided to rescue her as she dug herself a deeper hole.

 

“If we agree to host the party here, will you stop harassing her?”

 

Leia stopped trying to follow Rey’s rambling speech and smiled brilliantly.

 

“Of course.”

 

Rey looked at Kylo, who had a mingled expression of fury and resignation on his face.

 

“Fine.”

 

Leia’s smile remained beatific and she turned away. “I’ll start pulling out the holiday china.”

 

Kylo sighed as he watched her walk away, one hand squeezing the handle of the potato masher to an alarming degree. He’d apparently reached for whatever was closest, as if he could defend them against his mother with a kitchen utensil. Rey looked him up and down and felt her breath leave her chest as he turned his fierce gaze upon her.

 

“What?” he practically growled and she shook her head, then reached for the hand holding the masher.

 

The timer on the oven went off again.

 

“It’s your turn to baste the turkey,” Rey reminded Kylo quietly.

 

The hand holding the masher relaxed its grip somewhat, but he didn’t relinquish it.

 

“You know I like you, right?” he asked.

 

“Excuse me?” Rey suddenly felt light-headed.

 

The intensity of Kylo’s gaze didn’t diminish.

 

“I like you. You have to know that by now.”

 

Rey was gobsmacked for the second time that day. What the hell was she supposed to say to him? She tried to find her voice.

 

“I...I think so?”

 

“No, don’t think it. You know I like you.”

 

“Where is this coming from?” Rey asked, desperately trying to deflect. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. Despite the hanging out, despite the intimate, shared details, despite the kiss in the car, she wasn’t ready for this level of connection in her life. She needed breathing room. She needed to get the hell out of this house. She wasn’t prepared for any of this - she hadn’t showered in two days, she was coasting on three hours of sleep, and she was pretty sure the shoes she had on had been peed on by a screaming toddler last week.

 

Desperate to retreat, Rey turned around and decided to baste the damn bird herself.

 

Kylo laughed and it was a sad sound. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 

Rey, in the midst of carefully brushing the roasting bird in its own death juices, swung back around.

 

“Excuse me?” she repeated, this time with a little more force.

 

Kylo’s expression softened, as if he realized the situation he’d just put her in was supremely unfair, and yet he couldn’t help himself.

 

“Rey, I swear to all that is holy, if you don’t know I like you, and you don’t like me, then I don’t know how the hell I am going to get through a massive Thanksgiving meal at my _mother’s_ house.”

 

“Oh, is that all,” she snarked, unable to think of anything else, basting brush dripping grease all over the kitchen floor as she pointed it at him uselessly.

 

“Yeah,” he replied, sidling dangerously closer to her. “That’s all.”

 

“Listen, 4B,” she said, growling a little herself.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Fuck you,” she finished sullenly.

 

He opened his mouth, ready to respond, and Rey cut him off. “If you quote the Princess Bride at me again I will baste your ass instead of this turkey.”

 

His mouth twitched into a smile and Rey bit her lower lip, refusing to smile back.

 

Once she’d turned back to the job at hand, Kylo dared speak again.

 

“So you know I like you.”

 

Rey grunted what she hoped sounded close to an affirmation. It was pathetic, but it was all she could manage when she felt like flipping him over a table instead of kissing him just then. Or maybe kissing him and then flipping him over a table.

 

“Great,” Kylo breathed and she heard the clinking of glasses. “More scotch?”

 

“God, yes,” Rey replied, for the second time that day.

 

___________________________________________

  


“Your boyfriend is _hot_ ,” Finn said. It was the first moment they’d had a chance to speak alone and he was taking full advantage of it.

 

“He is not my boyfriend.” Rey glared at him across the kitchen counter as he stirred his sangria, readying it for serving.

 

“He will be,” Finn replied.

 

“No, I ruined it,” she argued. Finn remembered the way she’d greeted him an hour ago, with a stressed-out smile and tears in her eyes. He’d immediately asked who’d been serving her scotch and how much she’d had. Now he gave her a fond, if exasperated, smile.

 

“How did you ruin it? By forcing him to host at his mother’s house? Sounds like these two needed the Dr. Phil intervention.”

 

“No, I told him to fuck off.”

 

Finn laughed. “That’s practically an invitation, coming from you,” he said.

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“You’re such a cactus that any interaction is the same as flirting. Sounds like he knows that, too.”

 

Rey frowned. “How could he know that? We barely know each other!”

 

Finn glanced over his shoulder and back at the dining room, where everyone had squeezed in around the large table with place settings for twenty. He took in the way Kylo was deep in conversation with Poe; the way his eyes kept flicking up and through the doorway, looking at Rey, before returning to the other man; the way his gaze was shy, and hungry, and hopeful all at once.

 

“He knows,” Finn reiterated.

 

Rey sighed and finished plopping the fresh batch of rolls into the bread basket. “Come on, back into the fray, my old friend.”

 

“You got it, hot lips.”

  
A warm roll hit him in the face and he laughed, catching it with his right hand as he held the pitcher of sangria in his left. They needed to have Friendsgiving _every_ year.

**Author's Note:**

> There is no way you can cook a forty pound bird in any reasonable amount of time without a convection oven. Do not attempt this at home. Rey is a dorky doodle who was trying to impress and could have failed miserably, but for deus ex machina. Also, now that this is a series, expect everything to come back eventually...if you're thinking that some questions were unresolved here.


End file.
